Alone
by MoRwEn2
Summary: When a mysterious young elven woman is rescued after an accident outside the realm of Mirkwood, Legolas becomes suspicious of her intentions, leading him on a venture that brings more danger and heartache than he could have possibly imagined.
1. Prologue

Hello! I'm new to ff.net as an author, but not a reader. I absolutely love LOTR fan fiction and was inspired to write some after reading a particular author's fics. I hope that you enjoy this story. Please review after you  
read and tell me what you think. I will be updating as often as I can, hopefully every other day, sometimes every day. If you have questions about  
my fic, I will be more than happy to answer them if I can. So the story  
begins.  
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The clash of swords rang in the air, cries of despair filled the atmosphere around him. He had to kill them all.kill her. She was the reason he was here. He thought she loved him. Tears stung his eyes as the memories of her face filled his mind. Dark hair cascaded down past her shoulders, framing a soft, milky-white face that smiled quietly up at him, her deep-brown eyes imploring his. Leaning down he drew her face to his, their lips almost touching. Pain brought the memory to a halt. He was looking into the eyes of a monster. One that wanted to kill him. As the creature advanced, Legolas slowly backed away, painfully aware of the deep gash in his leg. Grabbing his dagger he quickly spun around, kicking all three creatures that surrounded him and viciously lashing out from all sides, instantly killing many of the evil beings around him. He was breathing hard now, wondering how many more there would be. Wondering how he could have trusted her.. how he could have loved her. Dropping to his knees, he felt his heart breaking in two as much as the blow that threw him to the ground, unconscious.  
** 


	2. Strange Meetings

Strange Meetings  
  
"I can assure you, nothing will go wrong, Saruman," she said quietly. "I will not fail you." Her voice was not her own it seemed, and this was just the way he wanted it. His plan was working. Nothing would stop him from succeeding in cloaking Mirkwood in the darkness that had already begun to creep into the shadow of its borders. Now, with her help, the demise of Middle Earth would continue. His plans were finally working. Rising from where he sat in the dark room, he walked slowly over to where the elf stood.  
  
"You cannot fail me now and if you do, you know what the consequence will be," he hissed. "Go, now! I do not care how you do it, just go...and don't come back until you are finished!" With that, the elven one fled from his presence as her dark green cape swirled around her. When she finally reached the opening of the evil place, she did not stop running until the heavy black doors clanged shut behind her. She ran as only her race could, vaguely noticing the dark clouds overhead.  
** "We had better get inside your father's house if you don't want to be wet through, Legolas!" Strider yelled through the howling wind that swept through the trees. His dark hair swirled around his face, making it hard to see the tall elf standing a few yards in front of him.  
  
"All right, I'll meet with you at the house after I check to see if Ran and Trelan are coming back through the forest yet. Tell my father I'll be there soon." Legolas said, gesturing for Aragorn to go to the house as he ran towards the opening of the forest. Rolling his eyes, the young ranger walked quickly in the direction of the house. His friend was a born leader, always looking out for everyone, never thinking of himself.  
** Rain was pouring down in dark sheets now, making the rocky ground slick under her feet. She didn't stop running. She'd been running for two days now, barely noticing the storm that had been brewing since she'd started her trip. Being an elf made her unnaturally strong and resilient and very fast. However, she had eaten only the berries and roots she could find as she went, and her strength was beginning to diminish slightly. The rain made it difficult to see, even with her elven vision. And she was so cold. Her green cloak clung to her skin, as did her navy blue garments, soaked with rain and mud. Lifting her head, she saw the forest of Mirkwood, illuminated suddenly by the flash of distant lightning. She was almost there, but her strength was wearing thin now through the cold, hunger and relentless running. Suddenly, she stumbled, twisting her leg in a hole and striking her head on a rock, rendering her unconscious.  
** Finally satisfied that both of his elven friends had returned from hunting, Legolas started to turn back from the edge forest. By now the rain was falling heavily and he could barely see anything a few feet in front of him. But as he turned, something caught his eye. As he walked closer, a figure lying on the ground became visible through the driving rain. Running over, he quickly turned the figure onto its side. An elf?! Gently rolling the elf over onto its back, he carried it in his arms. Running as fast as he could, dodging trees and rocks, he noticed that the hood of the being's cloak was beginning to slip. He stopped dead in his tracks. It was an elf maiden...a woman.  
  
Climbing up the stairs to his home, he slammed the large wooden doors open, bringing the rain in with him. "Risdil!" he called to the bewildered elf nearest him "Go...take her to a room...tell father, please, take her now!..." Risdil obediently took the elf from the prince's arms without a word, hurrying down a hall to an open room. Legolas' breath was coming back now. He leaned against the wall, still dripping water onto the marbled floor below him. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, questions began to fill his mind. Who was she? What was she doing here, in the middle of a storm? Was this her destination? Opening his eyes, he quickly walked over to the room in the adjoining hallway where Risdil had taken the elf woman. Pressing his hand against the door he quietly pushed it open without making a sound.  
  
An elven servant was applying athelas to an open wound on the elf's temple, a remedy that Elrond had introduced to them on his last visit in Mirkwood with Strider. Two others were positioned at the foot of the bed and looked to be setting a broken bone. Had she fallen or had someone meant to hurt her?  
  
"Son, why don't you go in now, her treatments are finished," Thranduil said, almost causing Legolas to fall into the room as his father opened the door he'd been holding onto. "I...all right," he whispered, succeeding in covering his surprise. "Tildur, Risdil, Adamir, Legolas will take over now. Thank you for your help." "Legolas, please notify either Risdil or Adamir if she awakens." Shutting the door behind him, Thranduil led the servants out. Crossing the large room to a chair that had been placed next to the bed, he sat down quietly and looked at the young elven woman lying in the bed before him. A bandage had been wrapped around her head that encased the wide gash on her left temple. Still, he realized she was one of the most beautiful elven women he had ever seen. Her hair was a dark brown that contrasted brilliantly with her ivory skin and flowed past her shoulders onto the white gown the servants had put on her in exchange for the wet clothing she'd had when he had brought her in. He leaned back in his chair, and watched her silently until at last the rain lulled him to sleep; unaware of the wet clothing he still wore.  
** Late into the night the rhythmic rustling of bedsheets awakened Legolas from his light sleep. He felt the coolness of the air as soon as he became conscious of where he was. The fire had gone out and he rose quietly to start it up again. Soon the warmth filled the room again, creating a warm glow in the dark room. Walking over to the elf's bedside he noticed how her face had begun to shine in the firelight and when he touched her head she flinched, moaning and tossing in her bed. She was much too hot to the touch than she should have been. Taking a cloth and dipping it in the water basin beside the bed, he gently mopped her forehead, whispering in Elvish to calm her as he had many times when Strider had been sick or injured. He smiled at the picture the memory conjured in his mind. Where was he anyway?  
  
Suddenly, the elf woman grabbed his wrist, hard, and her eyes flew open. Snapped out of his reverie by the sudden movement he pinned her other arm down on the bed so she wouldn't unknowingly hurt him or herself. Her eyes were wild and unseeing as she stared up at him. Legolas knew she wasn't seeing anything around her. The fever was causing her to do this against her will. Twisting his arm from her unyielding grip he pinned it down also, as gently as he could while still keeping her under his control. Unfortunately this did not stop her from trying to move away from him. She pushed herself up towards the edge of the bed with her arms still grasped by Legolas, muttering words that made little sense to him. As he tried to push her back down on the bed her foot swung around and hit one of the wooden posts of the bed, causing her to fall back from the pain of injuring her already broken bone. Her struggle ceased and she was brought back to consciousness immediately. Staring up at the blonde elf that was leaning over her, pinning her arms to the bed did not help the fact that she didn't know where she was. It was all so vague. She remembered falling, a bright flash of light and then darkness. Legolas released her wrists slowly from his grip. He could see the pain she was in, most likely from injuring her foot. But she seemed to know him. How was that possible? And who was she?  
TBC... 


	3. Truth or Lies

Truth or Lies  
  
She knew who he was, where she was, but how she didn't know how she'd found herself here with the Prince of Mirkwood leaning over her, pinning her to the bed. She was beginning to notice the unrelenting throb that radiated through her head and up her leg, both fighting for her attention. She closed her eyes and felt his hands remove themselves from her wrists. She knew he had questions for her. He had seen her recognition of him in her eyes. Suddenly she felt something soft being removed from her head and her eyes opened as her hand reached up to touch Legolas' hand.  
  
"Am I hurting you?" Legolas asked, drawing his hand away quickly from the bandage. Her throat was dry and her voice was hoarse and painfully quiet as she answered. "No, go on." She moved her head slightly to look at him and sucked in a breath as a flash of pain shot across her forehead. The room seemed to be spinning slowly around her, gaining momentum as her temple began to throb from being touched, no matter how gentle the prince's intentions were. Still, she lay quietly without a sound and closed her eyes to block out both the constant aches of her leg and head. "Drink this, it will ease your pain and help you sleep," Legolas said, taking her arm gently and guiding her to a sitting position. He handed her the cup and nodded for her to drink from it.  
  
Even the smallest motion of sitting up made her head spin, and she felt sick. Still, she held the cup to her lips and drank the liquid down. She handed the empty cup back to Legolas with shaking hands and slid back down into the coolness of the sheets. Already the liquid was making her pain subside a little.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was watching her with a genuine calm. He had questions, she knew, but would only ask if she spoke first. She must be careful not to let on how much she knew about him.  
  
"You have many questions, do you not Prince Legolas?"  
  
He knew that she could see he had questions, so her inquiry wasn't a surprise. "Yes, many, and rightfully so wouldn't you say? But first, who are you and how did you find yourself so near to Mirkwood, for that is where you are. Somehow I gather that you know that and who I am already."  
  
"Eldárwen Lissësúl," she hesitated briefly, an unasked for pang of guilt punctuating her inner thought as she said the words surprised her. This was her name, was it not? Why did she feel that she was lying? "And yes, I do know where I am and who you are." She hesitated again, "Though only because I have heard of you elsewhere."  
  
Legolas noticed her hesitation. Was she lying to him? And if she was, why? "I see. And where do you come from?" He was watching her face closely, watching for any sign of hesitation. Her pale face remained impassive for the moment.  
  
She had to think of something quickly. He was studying her eyes, her face, anything that would give away her story. Anything that would give her away.  
  
"I once lived in the woods of Lothlorien," she began, with more energy than she had answered before, "with a couple who took me in when my parents died under the hand of orcs. I do not know where I lived before that. I had thought perhaps Rivendell was my home at one time, but I never ventured near there to begin my search. I have spent my years wandering in and out of Lothlorien. 'Why?' you ask, would I leave The Wood? Look at me, Legolas." She stopped and waited for the blonde elf to do as she said.  
  
Her story was strange and sad, but he could not help but wonder if it was true. Legolas' eyes wandered across her face. She was beautiful, that much was true. Her silky, dark brown hair and large, warm brown eyes gave her the look of royal lineage. But he knew what he had wanted her to see. "You are not of Lothlorien descent. But why did you leave?" Of course he knew that part of the reason must have been because her physical appearance was different, but surely she would not have left just because of that? "No, I did not only leave because I was different in appearance, but also because I was different in the being that I was, especially compared to all of the Lothlorien elves. In the back of their minds they knew this, but were still very kind to me. They treated me as one of their own, but somehow I never felt that I belonged." she said, "So I fled the forests in search of a life with my own kind." she added quietly, lowering her head to look at her hands. Some of her story was true, about being adopted by the Lothlorien elves, about being different from those around her. But her reason for leaving was only half-true.  
  
Legolas wasn't sure what to believe about her so-called story. Her eyes were amazingly good at hiding everything that she didn't want him to see. It was difficult for him to tell whether or not she was lying. He had one last question for her, for now at least. "What are you doing so near to Mirkwood?"  
  
Eldárwen knew that she could not avoid the question, but she had no answer. She knew that whatever she said would be untrue, because she could not tell the truth. She couldn't tell him that she was here because of him. He would wonder why and. She closed her eyes and opened them again. She hoped her face remained impassive. "I-I am, or was, traveling..to.I-" Her hands were cold and shaking now. What was happening to her? The room was once again spinning around and darkness threatened to rob her of all conscious thought.  
  
Legolas noticed the change. "Eldárwen?" he asked, quietly. When she did not respond, he asked again, none of the panic that was in him showing through his voice, "Eldárwen? What is." He wasn't even able to finish his sentence. At that moment she fell limp and did not awake, even as Legolas tried desperately to revive her. Her lips were cold and her skin was becoming sallow. He crossed the room to the door and was just about to call for Risdil when he heard her speak. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She seemed to still be unconscious, possibly sleeping, and was saying something that only his elven hearing could detect.  
  
"Don't tell him.don't let him hurt me.no!" Her voice was one of sheer terror, something that she had concealed while talking to him. Now it was quieter, meek even "Yes sir.I know what.consequences.if I do not .succeed. The face that had been so peaceful, so careful to hide any emotion was now a flurry of panic and sorrow. Eldárwen's beautiful face was hiding nothing now. Unchecked tears flowed from her eyes, creating tiny wet trails that traveled down her pale face.  
  
Legolas suddenly realized that he had been walking across the room to her bedside and was now leaning over her once again. He shook her gently and she responded by waking slowly, as if she had been sleeping deeply. What was wrong with her? This reaction could not have been the result of her head injury. He felt her head with the back of his hand. She was cooler than she had been. Legolas sat down on the edge of the bed and looked into her face. She was actually smiling now and he returned it with one of his own.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked, quietly.  
  
"Yes, I'll be fine." She paused. "Did I. say anything. strange?" Despite the fact that she was trying to remain calm, an edge of doubt crept into her voice.  
  
Legolas debated with himself for a moment over whether or not to mention her outburst. "Yes, you did say something, though I could not understand it fully," he said.  
  
Her face paled and her slight smile faded as soon as he said the words.  
  
Legolas continued, "You were saying something about not letting someone hurt you.that you knew what the consequences would be if you didn't succeed.Can you tell me what you meant by all this?"  
  
"No, I cannot and if I could I would tell you," she said. He could tell that she was telling the truth this time, at least he hoped so. Perhaps earlier she had been a little wary of telling an almost total stranger her life story. He understood her carefulness about what she could and could not reveal to others.  
  
"I will leave now, so that you can rest, and if you need anything please feel free to call either myself or the servants," he said, quietly. Eldárwen nodded, "Thank you, I will."  
  
And with that, Legolas closed the door and began to walk down the spacious hallway toward his father's room. He had much to discuss with Thranduil, on the topic of the elven woman that would not stray from his thoughts.  
  
TBC. 


	4. Truth To Tell

As you can see, I haven't updated for about 3 weeks (not every other day!) and I'm sorry about that. I should be updating every 2 weeks now. Thanx to  
everybody who's reviewed my story so far! ok, on with the story.  
  
Truth To Tell  
  
"Well, what do you think of her, Father?" Legolas asked, moving forward in his chair as he spoke. He and Thranduil had been sitting across from each other in the King's large drawing room for some time now, talking of the new stranger in their home. The fire in the hearth crackled slightly, breaking up the short silence before Thranduil spoke.  
  
"At this point I'm not sure exactly what to think of Eldárwen, Legolas, though I do find her story somewhat puzzling. And you think she is lying, do you not?" Thranduil said, raising an eyebrow in question.  
  
Legolas shifted uncomfortably in his seat before answering. "I am not one to judge, but she seemed hesitant, as if she had to think about her answers. However, I can see now that I may have been asking too many questions, too fast. I admit that I too would be wary if a stranger had been asking me those same questions." The prince sighed and rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Maybe she just wants to hide her past, and means no harm by not telling us the whole truth."  
  
Thranduil murmured in agreement, "I believe you're right about that much, Legolas. Let's wait this out, see what comes of it." And with that he rose from his chair beside the fireplace, as did the prince, and both walked out of the large wooden doors together as the firelight cast long shadows behind them.  
** Eldárwen had been awake for what seemed like hours now, and the day was slowly being covered in the evening darkness. She'd been in and out of consciousness all day and was now beginning to feel significantly better. This was her third day in Mirkwood and she still had yet to see anything outside of her bedroom. Attentive servants had made sure she was comfortable at all times, and were most kind to her. Because of their constant care she felt well enough now to venture outside her room, which was exactly what she planned to do. She smiled to herself as she pushed back the sheets and dangled her feet over the edge of the bed. Her left foot was now wrapped in a light bandage and was healing well.  
  
As she surveyed the room, she took in the rich furnishings around her. There was no mistaking that this was the home of a king. Large windows hung with forest green draperies that were parted to let the sunset's last glows flow across the honey-colored wooden floor allowed for an amazing view of the Mirkwood forest. She let her hand brush against the tall, spiraling posts of the canopy bed; adorned with light netting across the top that flowed onto the cream-colored sheets of the bed. It was a beautiful room and she was anxious to see the rest of the prince's home. As she made her way to the closet, which had been supplied with several garments, a strange feeling came over her and his cold, hard voice entered her mind. You must not fail me! Do as you are told, or the consequences shall be worse than you could ever imagine. Succeed, and you shall have what I promised you. Remember, I am watching. With that his voice faded away. Still, she couldn't shake the chill that his voice brought on. Her hands were shaking and she clasped them together in an effort to calm herself. She had almost forgotten that she was here on a mission-one that could end her life or that could give her back what she'd waited a lifetime to have.  
** Strider had been watching Legolas for the past few days now, keeping his distance, and he had begun to think that the prince had almost forgotten that he was still in Mirkwood. It was now that he found himself a good distance up a tree that overlooked a small pond where Legolas had been sitting for several hours. The ranger quietly pulled his knees to his chest and sighed quietly as he rested his head on his arms. Legolas had done nothing but sit at the edge of the pond, not even noticing that his friend had been watching him the entire time. It wasn't like the prince not to discern these things. Aragorn had never been able to sneak up on Legolas like this before. The elf's hearing and eyesight were much too good. Slowly the ranger began to descend from the tree, making sure not to create the slightest creak. As he reached the last branch, he swung off and landed as softly as he could onto the grass below. He crouched behind the tree, placing his hand on the rough bark and peered over the side before standing up and quietly walking over to where Legolas was sitting.  
  
"Well, mellon nin, it is good to see you again." Aragorn said quietly, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder before sitting next to him. Legolas seemed a little startled, but quickly regained his composure as realization swept across his face.  
  
"Strider! Where have you been the past few days?" Legolas said. "I've been looking all over for you."  
  
Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question. "Really. Well, that is partly my fault." "Partly?!"  
  
"Yes, partly. I decided to give you some space, as you have seemed a little preoccupied. But if you had needed me, you could have found me just as easily." Aragorn said matter-of-factly.  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes. "If I had needed you," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"Hey, I heard that!" Aragorn said, punching Legolas' arm. "How many times have I had to rescue you?"  
  
"Not near as many as I have you, Estel," Legolas answered, a slight smile crossing his face.  
  
"Whatever you say, Legolas, but we both know who's right this time." Aragorn said with a mischievous glint in his eye.  
  
That set both the young man and his elven friend off and the two jumped up, racing after each other like the long-time companions that they were.  
  
* * * ".So that's what my mind has been so preoccupied with these past few days," Legolas concluded. He had spent the last half-hour telling Aragorn about the elven woman, though only after some prodding from his friend. They were both sitting atop Legolas' large bedroom window, watching the sun go down behind the trees and now both were silent.  
  
Aragorn was the first to break the silence. " I see. why are you so interested in her though? Surely there is something more to this than what you are telling me?"  
  
Legolas looked at Aragorn sharply before answering, "What makes you think there is something more? What exactly are you trying to say?"  
  
Aragorn smirked a little; Legolas was suddenly on the defensive.how interesting. "I guess I'm not totally sure what I'm getting at. but I'm probably wrong anyhow," he said, pushing himself off the windowsill and into the room.  
  
Legolas knew what Aragorn was getting at. "Well, let me put it this way: You want to know if I am in love with her, do you not?" Legolas asked, rather bluntly. At that, Aragorn stopped where he was, turned around slowly, and walked back to where the prince was sitting. Silver-blue eyes were staring back at him, still daring him to ask.  
  
"Yes, that was exactly what I was thinking, Legolas Greenleaf. Now, will you give me an answer?" Aragorn said, just as bluntly. Clearly this was how his friend intended to deal with the subject.  
  
Legolas was silent for a moment before answering as he stood up. "That is something that not even I know at this moment," he said as he leaned against the stone side of the open window. "I am very unsure of Eldárwen. I want to know her, but I feel that for some reason there is something in her that should not be. I only hope that I am wrong."  
  
"Well, mellon nin, you are very perceptive, and you may be right about Eldárwen," Aragorn said. Then he told Legolas, in a subdued voice, "Be a friend to her and you may find out more than you would by only observing."  
  
Legolas nodded in agreement. "Yes, that is exactly what I plan to do." With that, the two friends left the room to search.  
  
Unknown to the elf and ranger, another young elf had been listening to their conversation. Eldárwen had found her way into the garden outside the prince's home without being noticed. When she'd first heard the quiet voices, she'd drawn closer to the window where Legolas and his friend could be seen and had hidden herself among the trees. What she heard surprised her a little, for she had expected Legolas to deny what his friend had questioned. She wished she could have heard what the man had said to the prince, especially because of what Legolas' reply had been.  
  
With this new information, a slightly different plan began to unfold in her mind. This could make her mission easier. Still, there was a part of her that didn't want to do what she had to.a part of her that wanted Legolas to trust her. But she had no other choice. To fail was to die and to succeed was to live. There is nothing I can do now, she thought as an unchecked tear rolled down her cheek, only to be quickly wiped away. The anger that he had instilled in her was the only thing that was holding her to her mission.  
  
If Legolas or anyone else had been able to see the look in her eyes, there would have been no doubt in their minds what her intentions were.  
  
TBC. 


	5. Broken Trust

Haha. So much for updating every two weeks. I didn't realize how difficult it really is to update so often. I don't know how people update everyday on these things!! Anyway, please leave comments and tell me what you think! One last note: Did anyone notice that all of my titles have something to do with truth or trust?? I just noticed that myself.  
  
Broken Trust  
  
It was very dark in the prince's home this night. So dark in fact that only those with vision of the elves could see even remotely. Earlier in the evening the stars had been easily visible, punctuating the blue-black sky like tiny crystals. Soon though, the clouds had covered them in their thick darkness. Rain was coming and it would not be long until the dark silver drops would find their way into the trees of Mirkwood.  
  
Usually Legolas had no trouble sleeping, even on the stormiest of nights. Tonight, however, was different. The household had retired several hours ago and the house was as dark as the night itself. Still, Legolas was hardly ready to bed down for the night and he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. Looking over from his perch on the windowsill, he could see Aragorn's sleeping figure on the bed across from his own. The younger man seemed to be in a sleep much to deep to be awoken from. Humans, Legolas smiled to himself. Some could literally sleep through a thunderstorm. His slight smile faded quickly from his face as his thoughts returned to their previous engagement: the elf girl. She intrigued him much more than he would admit to anyone, possibly with the exception of his human friend.  
  
He had come upon her near a pond early in the morning the previous day. It was the strangest, and at the same time one of the most beautiful things he had seen in the longest time. Eldárwen had unknowingly managed to find a single sparkling shaft of light that fell from the very highest top of Mirkwood's canopy of trees and had settled in such a way that it seemed to flow like a river of gold down her hair and across her back. Legolas quickly recalled that he'd felt almost wretched as he watched her without her knowing. Still, it seemed like an image in a dream or the reflection of water, that if it were touched it would disappear altogether. Her innocence, seemingly not knowing that he was watching her had made him turn away and run silently back to his home among the trees. Opening his eyes he realized that the days events had been nothing that he could ever have imagined as he thought back to the chance conversation that he and Eldárwen had had that day..  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Prince Legolas?" a quiet voice asked.  
  
Legolas looked down from where he sat on the window ledge high up in the drawing room. When he recognized Eldárwen he leapt deftly down from his post and walked across the room in her direction. "Yes, is there something I can do for you?"  
  
"Oh, no of course not. I would not ask anything of you. I do have a question however." she said, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"It is not of any great importance and of course I do know that we elves prefer high places.but why do you sit in such awkward reaches?"  
  
"If you don't mind my saying so, that is a very odd question for one to ask."  
  
"Yes, I realize that. I only ask this because I do believe that every time I have seen you, you're balanced in some unimaginable place. I think that you too would find it strange if you were in my position."  
  
Legolas laughed inwardly. Why hadn't he seen her watching him?  
  
"Well," he began," I suppose you have a point there. Let me ask you this: Have you ever sat up in a tree or window?" He was only half-teasing her.  
  
Eldárwen laughed and the sound of it seemed almost foreign to him. It was like liquid sunlight and just the sound of it made him smile, for laughter did not often grace the house of Mirkwood.  
  
"Indeed I have," she answered, "though only as a young child. That of course was a good long time ago."  
  
"I see. I do not think, though, that you could forget the view or being able to get away for a while from things you couldn't change?"  
  
"Of course not. And I do miss both of those aspects." More than you know, she thought to herself, more than you could ever understand.  
  
"Well, come. I want to." he hesitated, thinking of the right word, ".remind you," he finished, extending his hand.  
  
Eldárwen looked at his outstretched hand for a moment and then slowly laid her hand into his, watching as he clasped it and lead her gently in the direction he was going.  
  
Running lightly through the many hallways of his home, hoping to be unnoticed, the two finally made it to the prince's destination.  
  
"This is my favorite room," he said, quietly. It was as if time stood still for a long minute, and the two of them stood facing each other. She was a bit shorter than he was and had to look up a little to see his face. Her smile showed in her dark eyes, and he found himself drawn to her face. A sudden breeze floated across them and the moment seemed to shatter softly, like leaves pulled gently off their branches by the invisible wind and scattered in all directions.  
  
As he pushed open the door a cool breeze could be felt coming through the many long windows that lined the room's walls. Out of each could be seen a tree that barely reached a foot out from a window's ledge. A distance that was easily reached by any elf.  
  
Legolas guided her quickly over to one of the far windows and proceeded to sit on a thick branch just outside the ledge. Signaling that she could do it herself, Eldárwen swung her skirted legs gently out of the window and onto the vacant space beside the prince.  
  
As soon as she looked up into the canopy of trees and patches of sky the memories came flooding back. Days of living with the Lothlorien elves, climbing trees when she was supposed to be doing her lessons, playing with her adopted siblings.  
  
"It is as I remembered, Prince Legolas," she said quietly, taking in the view from both above and below. But there was something about the forest that made it eerily magnificent.  
  
It was as if the whispers of a great kingdom from the past blew quietly through the trees to remind one that this had once been a better place. It saddened her to think that such a place could now be covered in such. shadow. The word chilled her to the very bone.  
  
Legolas seemed to know what she was thinking, for when she looked into his eyes she could see the sadness and the dimming of his pride.  
  
"Mirkwood's borders have been covered in shadow for many years now and her beauty has lessened because of it. The shadow does not cease to shroud us in its darkness either," he said, shaking his head as if in denial of the reality of what was happening to his beloved home.  
  
The obvious sadness in his icy blue eyes made her entire being burn with contempt for both herself and the evil one who'd sent her here. She quickly unlocked her gaze from his and turned her head, though not before Legolas had seen the flash of anger in her eyes. Was it directed at him or because of something he'd said?  
  
Before he could ask, Eldárwen changed the subject and soon the two had begun to talk quite freely and for a long period of time.  
~~ As Legolas remembered all of this, he couldn't help but wonder what had caused such a pure and unrestrained anger to show in her eyes.  
  
He was certain now that there was some secret about her that could explain the odd behavior that appeared so suddenly, even when things seemed to be perfectly normal. This question burned in his mind and would not be extinguished, no matter how much he tried to think of other things. And it was keeping him awake, lurking in every corner of his mind.  
  
Sighing heavily, the elf jumped down off the windowsill and walked silently out of the bedroom and into the inky blackness of the hallways. It was then he realized something, something that almost terrified him: he could not remember anything that he had told Eldárwen during their conversation that afternoon. He wracked his mind to give him back the memory, but nothing could be remembered much past what he had said at the beginning of their conversation. A sudden fear raced through his being and a single question filled his mind: What had he told her and why couldn't he remember?  
~~ She had learned much about him and Mirkwood during the time she'd talked to him this day. She had managed to make contact with Saruman, as she had every night and had given him every single bit of useful information the prince had unknowingly given her: where the guards were located, secret entryways into Mirkwood and even where his own sleeping quarters were.  
  
Of course, the prince had not willingly given this information. No, she knew that Legolas would never reveal such information, no matter how much he trusted her. He was too intelligent for that. And too cautious. He would never know how she'd obtained the information or how he himself had given it to her.  
  
Her plan was ready to be put into action. Secret reinforcements were coming, though only about ten or fifteen so that they would not be easily seen or detected. This would be difficult she knew, because this was a kingdom of elves and not simple humans. Legolas' human friend was different though, and she planned to dispose of him personally.  
  
Tomorrow night would be the end and the new beginning of her life, one free of slavery, guilt and pain. And it was almost here. All she had to do was wait.  
~~  
  
Aragorn opened his eyes only to be faced with total darkness and the insistent tapping of rain on the roof above him. "Legolas?" he asked, groggily. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that Legolas' bed was untouched and he was nowhere to be found. The young human sighed and let his head sink into the pillow. What was he doing up at this time of night? he wondered as he forced himself to get out of the bed. Wandering through the seemingly endless hallways, he noticed the flickering of candlelight coming from the room that Eldárwen occupied. Doesn't anyone ever get to sleep around here? he wondered.  
  
Pressing himself up against the wall and sliding silently closer to the room's entryway, he could hear Eldárwen walking across the floor of the room and whispering in Elvish. She seemed to be talking to herself, as no one was answering what seemed to be questions. Her words were so quiet that he could hear only pieces of her one-sided conversation. Straining to hear even the slightest bit more from her, the tired man did not hear the footsteps behind him.  
  
Suddenly, he felt a long, cool hand clamp itself across his mouth from behind, painfully suppressing a surprised yell. Strong arms pulled his own behind his back, momentarily making his body unable to move.  
  
"Strider," a familiar voice whispered in his ear, "it's just me, Legolas." The prince relaxed his hand from his friend's mouth and loosened his grip on the man's arms, letting them fall to his side.  
  
"What-"  
  
Aragorn was cut off by the prince, who mouthed the words "Not here" and motioned to a vacant room down the hallway.  
  
As soon as both of them entered the room, Legolas shut the door quickly, just before Eldárwen stepped outside her room.  
  
"What were you doing?!" Aragorn whispered into the inky blackness of the room.  
  
"I wanted to get you're attention, but I knew that you couldn't hear me come up on you. I didn't want to make any noise either and I knew that if I even tapped you on the shoulder you'd jump," Legolas said, matter-of- factly.  
  
"Well, you certainly had me scared there for a minute."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Not a problem, but what did you drag me in here for?"  
  
"You were listening to Eldárwen, weren't you?"  
  
"Yes.and I'm guessing you were also?"  
  
"Correct, though I believe I heard a fair amount more than you did,"  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Yes, your majesty, I'm sure you did."  
  
"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it. Listen to me, Aragorn: She is planning something," Legolas tried to make his voice sound calm. Aragorn did not answer.  
  
"What?" he whispered, quietly. He needed no clarification, but he couldn't believe what Legolas' had suggested.  
  
"The thing that frustrates me is that I have no idea how she's planning it, who is helping her or even why she would do it!" His anger was unknowingly beginning to show through in his actions.  
  
"You don't know that she's planning anything for a fact, Legolas," Aragorn said, trying to calm the prince. Although he could barely see his friend's sillouhette in the darkened room, he could here him pacing back and forth. He was angry and the worst part was that he was trying to keep it to himself.  
  
There was something else that Legolas was hiding from him, though he couldn't understand what. In the next instant it was revealed to him, as if he had spoken his question aloud.  
  
"Would you like to hear something else that disturbs me?" Legolas whispered, sarcastically, "I don't remember a thing I said to her after midday yesterday. It's as if our entire conversation has been.."  
  
Legolas' voice dropped off suddenly. ".erased." His eyes pierced the darkness of the room with such a cold sharpness that a shiver ran down Aragorn's spine.  
  
"You actually think she erased your memory?" he asked incredulously. "Why?"  
  
"I don't know, but the thought of it scares me. I don't know what I told her or." he stopped again, as a wave of realization hit him like a wall of rock.  
  
"Or what?!"  
  
"I can't explain right now, I've got to talk to her," Legolas whispered hoarsely. His throat was closing up as his anger overwhelmed him. He stopped as he reached for the door handle and took a breath. He was beginning to feel faint and his head began to throb.  
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn was beginning to panic. What was wrong with the elf? He quickly walked over to where the elf stood, motionless, and placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. As he turned the prince around to face him, the elf held his hand against his face and slumped against the closed door.  
  
"Why did I ever trust her?" he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the increasing throbbing in his mind. He turned a deathly white face towards the young ranger.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Before Aragorn could answer, the prince collapsed into his arms, driven into unconsciousness by the searing pain in his head.  
  
His sleep was to be unbroken, uninterrupted by the one who tried in vain to wake him.  
  
TBC. 


	6. Prisoner of Consequence

Well, this sure took a long time to get out didn't it? It's a little bit longer than some of the chapters before it, mostly because I couldn't find a good place to stop it. I noticed from some of the comments for the last part that there were some questions about things in the story. That's what I was looking for, so I'm sorry if it was really confusing for anybody. There's not a whole lot of answers in this one either, probably more questions than anything. Anyway, I'd luv for anyone to R&R! Caution: There's a little more 'angst-y' stuff in here, especially towards the end, so consider yourself warned. ;) Oh, one more thing! There's a part in here that is supposed to be a dream. It might be kind of hard to figure that out at first since the font and punctuation are totally different on the site then what I intended it to be when I typed it. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it. Onto the story!  
  
Prisoner of Consequence  
  
"Father!" Aragorn yelled hoarsely, fighting the panic that was causing his throat to close up.  
  
In his arms he held the limp figure of his friend. The hand he was holding was cold and damp and it was all he could do to let it go, watching it fall to the side as he lifted Legolas and opened the door. Legolas' head lolled to the side as if he were a child's rag doll. An involuntary chill traveled up Aragorn's spine.  
  
Once out in the hallway, Aragorn called for Elrond again, hoping that he would hear him before he had to move Legolas too far. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Eldárwen run out of her room and stop abruptly, her dress swishing sideways.  
  
"What is-...oh no...Legolas!" she choked.  
  
Aragorn saw her face blanch to a deathly white.  
  
"Get him into my room. Now!" she ordered, walking briskly over to where the ranger stood. Touching the elf's face with her hand, she gently placed the other under the long blond hair to support his head. When she glanced the expressionless face of the elf, she stiffened visibly.  
  
"Please, take him to my room, it's the closest. Now, please," she added, more softly this time.  
  
Aragorn obeyed mechanically, following her into the room and placing Legolas on the bed.  
  
"I will watch him. Go and get Lord Elrond immediately, Aragorn," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were fixed on the still form.  
  
How can I trust her? If Legolas was right, what is going to prevent her from harming him further? He had no choice at the moment, except to send Eldárwen to fetch his father, but that could arouse her suspicion.  
  
"If your friend is to live, I would move faster than you are at the moment," she said, icily. Her eyes were black holes, no trace of color was visible and they pierced his own with such a sharpness that he had to turn away from their unrelenting gaze. Without another thought, he ran from the room, tearing down the hallways to the sleeping Elrond's quarters, his heart pounding in an effort to escape the confines of his own body.  
  
"Father!"  
~~ A door. A hand. His hand. Reaching for something. Reaching for the door. Must get to the door. The door is closing. No! Lying on the ground and cannot get up. A voice. Get up, Prince Legolas, off of the floor. Be quick, the door is closing. A quiet voice, a gentle, haunting laugh. Another hand, small and pale, reaches for his face. swish, swish. The sound of dress skirts coming across the floor. Panic. Anger. Why won't she let me go? Her hand is grabbing his, squeezing, crushing the bones. She was too strong. Let me go! If only he could get up off of the floor. No, Legolas. Were those tears on his hand? It is too late for you now. The door shut in his face as heard those last words, felt his head slam onto the floor as her hand hit his face, and tasted the blood that trickled from his lip as he fell further from the light.  
  
Aragorn is next, Legolas. You will not be there to save him.  
  
This slowed his descent from the living slightly, as a sudden anger began to force itself through him.  
  
No! Do something. No! Spare him, please. What could you want with him?  
  
Silence.  
  
Her hand whipped across his face again, making the cut in his lip deeper and he gasped slightly in both surprise and pain. Where was she coming from? He could see nothing in the darkness.  
  
It is not what I want with him, but what I do not want of him. That is all I can tell you.  
  
Lifting his head, he saw her face peering at his own through the darkness and was surprised to find that tears were trickling down from eyes that looked ready to kill. She had the same strange, unsettling look in her eyes she'd had that night he'd had to pin her down to her bed. Someone-or something- was speaking through her, or so it seemed to his tired mind.  
  
He couldn't think straight right now. Nothing made sense. He had no idea where he was, what he was doing there or why he couldn't get up off of the floor. He was too weak to move and he didn't know why.  
  
Answer me! She wrapped her fingers in his hair and jerked his head up, lifting him partially off the ground. He hadn't heard her.  
  
I did not hear your question. He tensed himself, ready for another blow. But it did not come.  
  
I asked you why you killed them.  
~ "How is he?" Elrond asked, hurriedly tying a knot in the silk cord around his robe as he entered Eldárwen's room.  
  
Aragorn noticed Eldárwen's eyes fly open and remove her hand quickly from Legolas' own. What was she doing?  
  
"His breathing is steady, my lord, but he has shown no sign of waking," she answered.  
  
Elrond walked quickly over to the bedside, checked Legolas' eyes and placed his fingers on his wrist. After a few seconds had passed, he let his breath out slowly in a mix of both relief and doubt.  
  
"What is it, Father?"  
  
"His breathing is normal and I can find nothing wrong with him. It worries me though, as he seems to be in a deep sleep of some kind."  
  
"Can you wake him?"  
  
"I can try, but I think that only time will bring him out of this. Bring me the athelas and lavender from my pouch in the bedroom, Aragorn,"  
  
Aragorn took this as a signal that Elrond wanted to talk with Eldárwen privately and walked quickly out of the room.  
  
"I am sorry that I have not had the pleasure of meeting you sooner, Eldárwen. As you seem to already know, I am Lord Elrond of Rivendell," he said.  
  
"It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord. And yes, I know of you from the many good things Legolas has told me about you." This was true, and she quickly decided that Elrond was not a man to be trifled with, though he did seem kind.  
  
There was one thing that she wondered about though.  
  
"Lord Elrond, if you do not mind my asking, how is it that you are known as a father to Aragorn?"  
  
"He is my kin and has been raised in my home since he was a small child. I love him as I do my own children."  
  
This revelation both surprised and alarmed her. She knew that when Aragorn was gone, the wrath of Elrond would be great. She shuddered inwardly just thinking of it.  
  
"I see," was all she said before Aragorn reentered the room with the needed herbs.  
~ Night had once again fallen on Mirkwood and Aragorn had hardly noticed. He had been sitting in the chair next to Legolas' bedside for hours now, watching for any change in his friend's condition. Elrond had not been able to revive him with the athelas and lavender concoction or anything else of that nature.  
  
Aragorn hadn't moved from Legolas' room since he had been transferred there, sitting and watching the prince's chest rise and fall, just to make sure he was alive. His face was calm, though some bruising on his forehead was visible now, from where his head hit the door as he fell. There was one point earlier in the day, several hours after Legolas had gone unconscious, when he'd noticed his friend flinch twice and mutter something that he couldn't understand. He had figured that it was probably an after-effect from the fall.  
  
"Aragorn?" a quiet voice questioned from outside the door.  
  
Eldárwen. What did she want? "Yes, come in," he said, trying to keep the weariness he felt out of his voice.  
  
"I have come to relieve you of your duties, Aragorn. I will keep watch over Prince Legolas until the morning," she said, resolutely.  
  
"Who told you to come take my place?" he asked, trying not to seem overly critical. He was not at all comfortable with her being in the same room alone with Legolas, especially since he was not completely sure of her intentions.  
  
"Lord Elrond. He knew that you would probably be quite tired by now," she explained.  
  
Elrond? Did he not suspect anything?  
  
"All right...thank you for taking my place. I will come back later tonight," he said, trying to be pleasant. Did Elrond not sense the same dishonesty in her that he felt?  
  
As soon as the door shut behind him, Eldárwen went and sat on the bed next to Legolas.  
  
"Sleep well, my Prince, for the day will soon come when you will wish it would take you and it will not," she hissed.  
  
"Sleep well."  
** "Father?" Aragorn questioned softly, peeking his head into the bedroom Elrond occupied. The room was dark, but he could see the elf lord's sleeping figure underneath the blankets.  
  
Aragorn let his breath out in a low whistle. He hated to wake the sleeping elf, but he had to find out if Elrond had really asked Eldárwen to take his place, or if it had simply been a ploy to get him away from Legolas.  
  
As he walked over to Elrond's bed, he noticed that the elder elf did not even stir, though he could have easily detected the human's footsteps. He had never been able to surprise the elf, not even in sleep.  
  
"Father?" he asked again, gently shaking the elf's shoulders. The elf did not even move from his position. What is going on here?  
  
Aragorn turned the elf over to face him and was immediately struck with a horrifying sense of dread. Elrond's eyes were closed, just like Legolas, and his face was deathly white.  
  
"Elrond!" he yelled, and shook him harder this time. His actions were to no avail. Eldárwen. This had to be some sort of evil. He wasn't even sure how she could do something like that, especially since Legolas had been struck with it when he was in a separate room. And she wasn't even in the same room with Elrond. Or maybe she had been earlier?  
  
He walked over to the large window overlooking the side lawn and into the dark woods. Pushing the netted curtains away, he peered into the midnight darkness. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out how she could have done it, what she had even done. His mind was far away from the room and he had no chance to even hear the footsteps behind him before whatever it was hit him in the back of the head. Flashes of light blurred his vision briefly and he fell against and slid down the window's glass, crumpling to the floor beneath him.  
~ Why was it so cold? It seemed to take forever for him to open his eyes, which felt like anchors at the moment. Strange though, how his head seemed to feel so light and pounded with every breath he took. His mind and body registered shock as he realized that he was suspended from the ceiling of a cell and his shirt had been removed. Rough cord was wrapped around his wrists in such a way that prevented his circulation from being completely cut off, but still caused them to bleed from open slits whenever he moved them. How long had he been hanging here?  
  
"Ah, I see our prisoner is awake." The quiet, mocking voice came from the shadows behind him in the cell. Slow footsteps tapped across the stone floor as the being made its way toward him. When it stopped in front of him, he still couldn't tell what it was because of the dark brown cloak and hood that it wore to hide its face.  
  
"How are you feeling?" the figure asked, sarcastically.  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath before speaking. His chest ached from lack of air.  
  
"Who are you?" he rasped.  
  
"That doesn't matter right now, and in a few minutes I doubt you will care," the being said, laughing to himself.  
  
Aragorn's heart caught in his throat. He did not like the direction this conversation was taking.  
  
"Where is Legolas?" He had to keep his questions short because he was trying not to gasp for air every time he spoke. It was giving the evil being below him too much pleasure.  
  
"Oh, Eldárwen's taking care of him, I can assure you of that," it said with mock sincerity.  
  
"That...doesn't answer my...question." He tried to pull himself up to take some of the pressure off his arms and chest but the rope bit into his raw, bloodied skin hard; causing him to jerk down suddenly and he couldn't contain the small cry that accompanied the pain.  
  
The being below him just laughed.  
  
"Legolas is upstairs in his room and he is awake now and very distraught I must say, to find that you are missing."  
  
New anger seared through him that helped lessen his awareness of the pain. He noticed that the figure in front of him was within a short kicking distance. He decided to take the chance and swung out, turning his leg to catch the being in the face with his foot. Instead, the figure grabbed his foot and wrenched it downward, tightening the hold of the ropes around his wrists, generating a stifled groan from the human.  
  
"I would suggest that you refrain from behavior such as that, my Lord Aragorn, as it will inflict more pain than you I doubt you can handle," he whispered.  
  
"Do not...hurt him...or your...pain will be much greater...than mine," Aragorn ground out through clenched teeth.  
  
The being laughed. "My pain? I think that will not be so. Guard, bring me the whip," he said, holding out a white palm as a shrouded guard produced the device. Aragorn shut his eyes and tried to calm himself.  
  
"Let us see how much of this you can take, human."  
  
Aragorn could hear the smile on the being's face. He cringed inwardly.  
  
"Or maybe it would be better if you screamed, someone just might hear you in the house up above."  
  
Aragorn knew better than that. These were the dungeons below the house of Mirkwood. The walls were thick. No one would hear him.  
  
"Let us begin."  
  
The whip snapped in the air and landed on the human's chest with a sickening crack. He didn't even flinch, but he felt the sharpened metal point at the end. Again the whip shattered the silence, this time ripping into the skin of his back and making it bleed. This time he flinched. Again and again the whip hit its mark. The dungeons echoed with the sounds of metal tearing skin, and much later on it rang with the anguished cries of one whose strength had been broken.  
  
TBC... 


	7. Wounds and Choices

Well, here is the next part, finally. Once again, I hope that some of your questions will be answered in here! It's still supposed to be kind of a mystery, but some things will be revealed here. And again, there's some angst-y stuff in here, so consider yourselves forewarned. All reviews, good and bad are welcome!! Although I'm partial to good ones... ;) Oh! One more thing, the italicized words STILL do not show up on here so I apologize for that. I know it makes it more confusing. It helps to show when characters are thinking and things like that...oh well, on with the story!  
  
Wounds and Choices  
  
"Good morning, Prince Legolas."  
  
Her voice was not what he had expected to hear when he finally came back into the world. It was sweet and soft, like his mother's had been when he was young. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking into her smiling face. She looked happier than when he'd last seen her. Her face was still a milky white, but her cheeks were the color of rosy apples and her eyes sparkled as the sunbeams from the window played softly around her shoulders.  
  
"How long have I been asleep?" he asked, a playful smile spreading across his tired face.  
  
"Almost two days exactly. Your father will be pleased to know that you are awake," she said, smoothing the bedsheets with her hand as she talked and pretending not to notice his smile.  
  
"Two days!" he repeated, incredulous. His eyes wandered around the room's perimeter. "Where is Aragorn? I half-expected that he too would be asleep somewhere in this room." The ranger was always nearby when the elf prince periodically fell into harm's way.  
  
How did I manage to hurt myself this time anyway? he thought to himself. He did not ask though, as it would probably seem an absurd question.  
  
He propped himself up carefully on his forearms and scanned the chamber.  
  
"Where is he, Eldárwen?" he asked, his thoughts once again turning to Aragorn. He noticed immediately the shadow that slid over the sparkle in her eyes.  
  
"I wish you had not brought that up just yet," she said, bowing her head to look at her hands.  
  
A sick fear settled in his heart. Something was not right here.  
  
"Tell me now. I do not appreciate being hidden from things that I should know about. What has happened?" he asked, trying not to think of the worst possible scenario. He stilled her quaking hands and held them in his own. She looked up slowly and finally spoke.  
  
"He has been taken."  
  
He dropped her hands abruptly.  
  
"What? By whom? How did they-?" he faltered.  
  
"We don't know who did or where they've taken him," she answered, "but everyone here is doing their best to find him. Your father has sent several of his best elves to try and track the captor. We will find him, Prince Legolas."  
  
"Where is my father?" he asked, ignoring what she had recounted to him. "I need to speak with him."  
  
"He will be here soon enough, Prince Legolas," she said. "Is there anything you need before I take my leave?"  
  
"No," he answered, absently. "You may go now." He waited until she shut the door behind her and listened to her muffled footsteps pad along the corridor. Then he quickly threw off the sheets and made an attempt to stand, at which he failed miserably, and promptly crumpled to the floor with a loud thud.  
  
Sudden panic gripped him with a force that made his head swim. The dream, this was what had happened in his dream. He tried to move his legs, but he couldn't even feel them.  
  
Memory came flooding back to him now: Eldárwen's intentions, Aragorn's silent reservations about her, everything was piecing itself back together now. Time was running out.  
  
Slowly, he pulled himself across the expansive wooden floor towards the door of his chamber. Trying to be as quiet as he possibly could, he opened the door and began to drag himself down the hallway to his father's quarters.  
  
The house was strangely quiet, deathly quiet as if the entire house was holding its breath for fear of some unknown thing. He could hear a slight wind whispering against the house, the brushing of leaves against the windows, but nothing of his own elven kind. Even Eldárwen had seemingly disappeared. That is what frightened him the most. She seemed to appear at the least expected moments.  
  
Just as he reached the door to his father's chambers and reached up to grasp the door knob; a small, hard foot slammed into his back, knocking him onto his stomach and holding him there. Legolas tried desperately to turn himself over, twisting his arm to catch hold of the foot that ground itself into the small of his back. The added dead weight of his useless lower body made it difficult to move. Two small hands grasped his own and jerked his arm across his back sharply, a sickening crack indicating that his shoulder had been dislocated. He gasped in pain as quick surge of fire ripped through his shoulder.  
  
"How do you feel, Prince Legolas?" Her voice was cold as ice, frozen with malice and emotionless sarcasm.  
  
He stopped struggling. There was something about her voice...  
  
"Let me go. I can do you no harm. My entire lower body is paralyzed," he told her softly.  
  
She released some of the pressure, allowing him to turn over on his back to face her. He could not hold back a slight gasp as he caught a glimpse of her face. It was not just that her face was as frosty and pure as snow, or that her lips were drained of whatever color they had once been. No, it was her eyes. Her eyes were the only things that betrayed the emotion that her voice kept secret. They flashed silver, silver as mithril, silver as his own blade. Never had he seen eyes such as hers, and they scared the life out of him.  
  
"What are you doing?" he whispered hoarsely, trying not to stare at her eyes.  
  
"You are afraid of me, are you not?" she asked, ignoring his question. Her lips parted in a half-smile.  
  
Legolas didn't know what to say.  
  
She slapped him across the face before he could move away. He had not answered fast enough. Blood trickled from the cut on his lip. He touched it with his hand.  
  
//Get up, Prince Legolas, off of the floor. Be quick, the door is closing//  
  
This was a living nightmare, the one that only hours before had claimed all of his conscious thought. He felt much too vulnerable like this, lying on the floor as she stood over him, with only half a body that would obey what he asked of it.  
  
"Do you want me to be afraid?" he asked. It was better to play off of her own invisible emotions, he thought, than to risk his life being insolent. She was out of her right mind.  
  
"Of course I want you to be afraid!" she hissed at him, her eyes blazing like a bolt of lightning. "I want you to be scared to death of me, I want you to know what fear is like...and soon enough I want you to know what it is like to watch the ones you love die before your eyes."  
  
Suddenly it hit him, harder than anything he had yet experienced. She had taken Aragorn, she was going to kill him and she was going to make him watch his friend die.  
  
Before she even knew what was happening, Eldárwen felt herself hit the floor as Legolas pulled her leg out from under her. She tried to struggle, but Legolas threw the upper half of his body on top of her, pinning her arms just as he had the night she had been controlled by the fever.  
  
"You will not harm Aragorn!" he raged. "You have no business with him and I swear that if you so much as touch him, you will die!"  
  
Someone had to have heard his cries, someone would come running any time now, he thought.  
  
Eldárwen read his mind.  
  
"No one is coming for you, Prince Legolas. No one has heard you. Everyone in this household is in an enchanted sleep that you too were once under. Only I can awake them from their slumber, like I chose to do for you," she whispered. "If I die, this house will remain in an endless sleep."  
  
She smiled with satisfaction as she watched the look of defeat cross the young prince's face. She took advantage of his weakened grip and twisted his injured arm, immediately flipping him onto his back again, then rolling over and slamming him into the door. The elf prince slumped to the floor, curling into himself as much as he could, holding his dislocated arm and waiting for the incessant waves of pain to subside.  
  
"Your paralysis is a side effect of the sleep," she said abruptly. "It will wear off, but only when I am dead. You see, you have a choice: you can kill me and so release yourself from this humiliating situation you find yourself in, as well as save your worthless human friend, or you can keep me alive with the hope that I will someday release your home from this endless sleep." She laughed, watching his face as he tried to deal with his own physical pain and the decision that lay before him.  
  
Her laugh was not the same one that he had grown to love over the time she had been here. Now it was one that was strained, one that was pure evil. But at the same time, he could hear a trapped sob that suffocated behind her tortured laughter. In the semi-darkness he noticed with surprise that her face was wet with tears. Something more was at work here than what was showing before him now.  
  
~~~ He had never known such pain as he did now. Even before he opened his eyes he could feel the still-bleeding cuts across his body. He was suddenly aware of how cold he was, and that he was no longer suspended from the ceiling. He was lying with his bare chest to the dirty stone floor. It hurt badly to breathe, to move, to do anything but simply lay there and try to take his mind off his hurts.  
  
He remembered that his tormenter had beaten him until he was delirious with pain. It had seemed to have taken a lifetime before he could even feel himself slipping away into an oh-so-welcome darkness of unconsciousness. He could hardly remember all that had happened, except for the horrible, unmerciful laughter of the evil one who had whipped him until he felt his own blood run cold down his broken skin. He had begged for mercy, something that he had never done before, and now he could feel his face flush red with hurt and embarrassment at the memory of what he had done. He was an heir to the throne of Gondor, a future king. Kings do not beg for mercy from their persecutors, he thought to himself. Kings must have a sense of pride that must be kept alive and protected, no matter what. He was angry with himself for his weakness; no matter that a normal human being would have died long before he had begun to cry softly for the mercy that would be his only saving grace.  
  
His thoughts only added to his physical pain. Had he been in better shape than what he was, those thoughts would have never crossed his mind. He hardly ever thought of his duty to the throne of Gondor. Now it seemed that all of his emotional hurts and burdens of the past and present were piling themselves on him at a time when pain was all he seemed to know.  
  
With his head to the stone floor, he was able to hear the echoing footsteps of someone coming towards his cell. He shakily dragged himself to the rock wall and gripped the stones that protruded from it, pulling himself up to a standing position in a half-hearted attempt to appear strong to the person who was about to enter his cell.  
  
His heart was pounding in his bloodied chest and he couldn't help but wrap one arm around his bruised ribs as every reverberation thudded off of each one, making them throb as if someone were still beating him.  
  
He quickly discovered that he could not lean against the wall because his back had been flayed open and was still bleeding lightly. The slightest touch caused his pounding head to spin. He would have to hold himself up with his own strength, which did not sound promising at the moment.  
  
And so he stood, trying to still his labored breathing as he heard the creak of the cell door open to the one person he least expected to see.  
  
TBC... 


End file.
